Page 48 of Fatal Vengeance

“Stop it, I'm trying to be serious,” I breathe out through a laugh, smacking his stomach with the back of my hand.

Asher catches my wrist, bringing my hand up to his lips and kissing my knuckles. “Fine, I’ll table this discussion for now. But as soon as Griffin and Creed are back, I think he’d be very interested to know what's had you blushing so furiously for me," he rasps, soft and sensual. He skims a finger over my cheek. "So fucking pretty, pet. I love this color on you. I'll be doing whatever I can to put this blush on your face every day."

What. Is. Happening?

If you told me a few months ago that Asher would turn into a flirtatious, cheeky fuck instead of my biggest tormentor, I'd have laughed so hard my lungs would collapse. Yet, here we are. And goddamn, I can already tell I'm in trouble here because of that mouth of his.

"I think I need some water." I stand from the couch, missing Asher's heat immediately. But if I don't put some space between us right now, we'll end up fucking on my sister's couch, and then we'd miss it if Griffin and Creed called for help. No, as much as my body wants Asher, my heart is aching and even the best dicking down won't fix it until I have everyone I love under one roof again.

Asher laughs under his breath as I leave him and head into the kitchen. I roll my eyes, which he doesn't see from behind me, but then I get an idea and smirk. Pausing to look back at him over my shoulder, I say, "Asher?"

"Yes, pet?"

I trail my eyes down his taut body, practically purring, "When the day comes that I'm sandwiched between you and Griffin…" I trail off with a wicked, filthy smile.

Asher's eyes flare with heat and he leans forward with his elbows on his knees, a matching smile on his face. "Tell me, baby."

I tilt my head and bite my lip. "Do you think you'll feel him in my pussy while you're buried in my ass?"

Asher sputters out something between a choke and a shocked laugh, and I mentally high-five myself before leaving him to those delicious thoughts. I really do need that water. A cold, cold glass to put out the fire building beneath my skin.

Hurry home, guys, so we can put these filthy ideas to the test.

30

Griffin

I don’t know how Asher found these people — the doctor, the security guy, whoever the hell else — but I’m fucking glad that he was a sneaky shit and built up a team of assets outside of The Celestials that we might need one day. Thank god Asher had this guy under his thumb, willing to give Creed whatever meds he needs without all the bullshit, paperwork, or questions.

The drive here was tense, Creed just staring out the window like he was lost deep in thought, and I was too focused on driving us here fast so I could get him help. The hours dragged by until we parked outside some old gothic looking monstrosity. I think the house would be nice if the dark gray paint had been touched up and the yard was kept in shape. The moment we stepped inside, though, all thoughts of the exterior flew from my mind.

This short old man with striking white hair, milky blue eyes, and the biggest fucking glasses I've ever seen had taken one look at Creed and I, and then all but dragged Creed through the foyer and down into the basement.

I’ve been waiting for their return for over an hour now, standing stiffly in the foyer of this massive, ass-ugly house. What is it with obscenely wealthy people having the worst damn taste? I mean, fuck me, the outside was bad enough, but the inside? From the mounted bear on the left of the stairs, the classic Renaissance painting directly in front of me, and the checkered black and white tile floor, I feel like this doctor is likely a quack with a few screws loose himself. But hey, if he’s helping Creed, then I’ll bite my tongue and try not to look like I hate everything about this place.

It won’t be an easy task, though, that damn bear is giving me the creeps.

I’m finally saved from my unease a few minutes later when Creed and the older doctor stroll out from the door beneath the stairs that leads to the basement. I guess that’s where the good Doc handles all his illegal practices.

I plaster a smile on my face for Creed, even though I’m sick with worry for him on the inside. Unlike Asher, I’d never seen Creed at his worst before, just so completely out of his mind like he was last night. Sure, I’d seen him have manic episodes and fall into deep depressive states over the years, but never anything quite as volatile as yesterday. I know we’ll all get through this and see him steady out, but I worry that Creed’ll be ashamed that we all saw his breakdown and that he’ll pull away because of it. Before I can even help myself, I’m already thinking of ways to keep him close, to get him to see that he belongs in this family. We’re all a little fucked up, anyway. He fits right in.

I look from Creed to the doctor, who's name I can't remember for the damn life of me. Asher told me before we left the cabin, but fuck if that information is anywhere in my head now. He smiles at me professionally, coming over to stand beside me while Creed wanders the foyer.

When the doctor doesn’t say anything for a moment, I shift awkwardly on my feet. Am I supposed to start this conversation, or does he just not want to divulge Creed’s business to me? Finally, clearing my throat, I murmur, “All set? He’s gonna be good in, what, a week or something?”

“It can take up to seventy-two hours before things start to regulate, so be prepared for that over the next few days, but I went ahead and gave him a fast-acting dose of something that should help with his manic spikes in the meantime. I don’t foresee any issues arising, but things happen. Keep an eye on him and watch for any signs of another episode. He should be leveling out, not getting worse. If you need anything more from me or there’s another emergency situation, please don’t hesitate to reach out,” he says, giving me all his attention while Creed walks over to the big ass bear and just stares the thing down. I’m assuming they’ve already spoken about all of this when they were down in the basement and now I’m just getting brought in to the news. The doctor pushes his big, circle glasses up his nose, tersely adding, “Please, give Asher my best.” And then he nods once and turns, disappearing back into the basement.

Creed barks a laugh as the door clicks shut, and I startle a bit, glancing over at him. He brushes a hand through his wild hair, leaving it messier than it already was. “What a nice guy. A fucking oddball, but fuck if I’m one to judge,” he muses, strolling toward me after one last look at that damn stuffed bear.

I frown, hating the feeling like I’m walking on eggshells with one of my oldest friends. I don’t want to say or do something to send him to that low, dangerous place again, but I also don’t want to treat him any differently than I normally would. He’s still Creed, one of my best friends and a man who loves Prudence with all he is. There’s nothing bad in him, even if his mind needs some extra help along from time to time.

As if he can read my tumultuous thoughts, Creed stops in front of me, dropping his hand to my shoulder with a somber, almost sheepish expression. He holds my gaze as he tells me, “I’m sorry, Griff. I know I fucked up, scared everyone… I don’t know why my brain can’t just fucking work right, but you gotta know, even if Prudence hadn't stepped in to help level me out, I’d never hurt any of you.” He pauses with a bitter laugh, shaking his head and sending his hair into his haunted eyes. “Why would you believe that, though, right? I'm fucking nuts… Sometimes, when I get… lost like that, I… Well, I think that it might be easier for everyone if I wasn't here, you know? One less crazy person to worry about.”

His heavy words, the painful truth in them, cleave my chest wide open, and I grunt out my disapproval as I grab his shoulder, so we’re mirroring each other. Creed’s eyes shudder closed, his expression faltering at my touch. “Don’t,” I rasp, gripping him harder as if, by will alone, I’d be able to keep Creed grounded with me. Fuck, I've never wanted anything in my life as much as I want to that to be true. “Creed, we all love you, man. No matter what, okay? Don’t apologize for this shit, and don't ever think we'd be better off without you.”

He nods solemnly, sighing and blinking open his eyes. With a brittle smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, Creed says, “I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so dark. I’m just feeling—“

“It’s okay,” I say, cutting him off gently. “No more apologies, man. Feel whatever you need to. Come to us whenever you need to. Just don’t fucking leave us, okay? We’re a family, and that includes you. It always will... Crazy or not.” I tack that last part on hesitantly, but with a teasing smile, so he knows we're good. I'd never call the guy insane in any serious manner, but he's the one who started it, so I may as well roll with it and try to bring out his playful side.

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